


Truth Tables

by blueraccoon



Series: Geometry [16]
Category: NCIS
Genre: D/s, Domestic Violence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-05
Updated: 2010-03-05
Packaged: 2017-10-12 23:21:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueraccoon/pseuds/blueraccoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We've all got something we don't want to remember.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth Tables

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a short little scene and 7000 words later, it kind of isn't. _Please_ read the warnings if you're at all triggery; those of you who've kept up with the universe have an idea of what might be in here.

Tony doesn't want to say anything, since they're in his house and all, but Travis is giving him a headache. He's more wound up than usual tonight, full of stories about the latest insanity at work--something about a battle over the music and a roller coaster and Tony frankly tuned him out five minutes ago. He glances at David, wondering if they can make an excuse and leave. Christian seems to be keeping up, but Joshua and Stephen left half an hour ago and Tony's now wishing he'd gone with them.

Kyle walks into the room, carrying a mug. "Daddy, you made it," Travis says with a bright grin. "I was beginning to think you'd abandoned me and run off to someplace warm with great scuba diving. Not that I could necessarily blame you, but really, it'd be--"

Kyle holds up a hand, cutting him off--Tony is amazed to see Travis actually fall silent. "I think I should have been here half an hour ago," he says, studying Travis.

"Probably," David says. "He's, um. A little manic tonight."

"I am not!" Travis says indignantly. "I'm having a lovely evening with friends."

"You're vibrating," David says. "When was the last time Kyle spanked you?"

"I resent the implication--"

"Travis," Kyle says quietly, interrupting him. "Go upstairs and wait for me."

"Daddy!" Travis protests. "You can't be serious."

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Kyle asks. "Upstairs, please."

"But--" Travis tries again.

"Travis, if you're going to argue with me, you get one word to stop it, otherwise, I want you upstairs and on your knees next to the bed in three minutes," Kyle says evenly. "Do you really want to push me tonight?"

Travis looks stubborn, but after a moment he shakes his head. "No, sir."

"Then go," Kyle says.

"Yes, sir," Travis murmurs, getting up from the couch and heading for the stairs.

Tony isn't sure what to make of the whole exchange. He's amazed Travis argued as much as he did--if Kyle had been talking like that to _him_ , Tony's pretty sure he'd have been upstairs before Kyle could finish a sentence. And he and David don't even play that way.

"Time for us to head out, I think," David says. "We'll catch you later?"

Kyle nods. "Sure," he says. "He should be fit for company by tomorrow."

"C'mon, Goldilocks," David says, getting up from the couch. "Tony and I'll walk you home."

"Thanks," Christian says. "You two want to come up for a bit, see what I've done with the place?"

Tony glances at his watch, but it's barely eight. "Sure," he says, knowing David will want to, if nothing else. He doesn't miss the grateful look David gives him and smiles, squeezing his hand.

It's cold enough out that they don't talk much on the way to Christian's place. Tony hunches down inside his coat, trying to process what happened back there and wondering if it should bother him more than it does. He supposes it's something that Travis has a way to end it, tosafeword if he has to, although that makes him wonder. "How--" He tries to figure out what he wants to say. "Has Travis ever safeworded on Kyle?"

"No," David says. "Not that I'm aware of, anyway."

"He hasn't," Christian confirms, breath puffing out white in the air. "But I've heard that's not so unusual, at least with a Dom who knows what he's doing. I mean, have you ever safeworded on David?"

Tony shakes his head, wondering when discussing his sex life became par for the course. "No," he says.

"You didn't either," David points out, and oh, but Tony could really do without the reminder that he and Christian had a thing. Not that he's jealous, but there's a difference between knowing David slept with Christian--and Stephen, for that matter--and being reminded of it.

Christian blushes a bit, ducking his head. "I suppose not," he says, sounding almost shy about it. "Although--well, anyway. Here we are." Hedoesn't seem to want to talk about that part of history any more than Tony does, for which he thinks he's grateful.

The doorman nods to them as they enter, exchanging greetings with Christian. Once in the elevator, Tony's surprised to see Christian both swipe akeycard and punch in an alarm code before the elevator begins to move. "Impressive security," he comments.

"It's--yeah," Christian says. "The doorman has code words to listen for, so like if I'd made a comment about it being foggy he'd have stopped you, and then you need the card and the alarm code to get up to my floor. If you punch in the wrong code twice the elevator locks down and calls the police."

Tony blinks. "Do you have foreign diplomats living here or something?"

David gives him a warning look. "If you feel safe here, that's all that matters," he says.

"I know it's ridiculous, but...I can't help but think he--anyway." Christian gets off the elevator, hanging his jacket up on a hook.

"He'll never bother you again," David says softly.

Tony feels like an idiot. Of course Christian would want someplace he felt safe. "He's in New York," he says. "The local cops know about his history and are keeping an eye on him. If he so much as jaywalks, they'll get him."

Christian gives him a startled look. "You looked?"

"Yeah, I did," Tony says. "Was I not supposed to?"

"No, I just--thank you," Christian says. He looks down as a small fluffy white cat comes and rubs against his legs, picking her up. "Hey, princess."

"C'mon," David says. "Let's look around."

Christian waves with the arm not holding the cat. "Feel free."

Tony looks around, although now he's feeling less like a friend and more like a cop surveying the place for defensibility and security. He's been there before, but hewasn 't paying much attention to that at the time. What he sees makes him whistle inside--the windows all lock, the blinds are blackout screens should Christian want that layer of privacy, and he's pretty sure he sees a panic button on a couple walls. He supposes it's a good thing, but he has to wonder if the enhanced security is really doing anything but feeding Christian's fears.

"Is he seeing anyone?" he asks David when they're in the music room. He notices Christian's rearranged all the CDs and has to laugh inwardly. So much for all that work. "Not--not romantically, but like a therapist?"

David sighs and shakes his head. "Travis and I have been having this argument with him for months now," he says. "The best we've gotten so far is him agreeing to see Kyle for a massage once a week. We think they talk then, but neither of them will comment."

"Is Kyle a licensed counselor?" Tony asks. "I mean--"

"Kyle's got a master's in psychology and does a lot of outreach work," David says. "He volunteers for the Maverick Foundation--that's how he and Travis met--and he spends a lot of his free time working with kids who need someone to talk to. It's less of a stretch than you think it is. But even he says Christian should be in therapy, or attending a support group, or something, and we don't know why Christian's so resistant to the idea."

Tony has a few guesses, but he's reluctant to say anything. "Maybe--do you want me to try talking to him?"

David looks uncertain. "I don't know," he says. "He's so fucking stubborn, it might just make him dig in more, you know?"

"Did you two get lost among the CDs?" Christian asks, coming to the doorway. "Or is this now a favored make-out spot?"

"Why aren't you in therapy?" Tony asks bluntly.

Christian's face shuts down. "That's my decision," he says shortly.

"It's the wrong one," Tony says. "You've got friends, people who want to help you, why won't you let them?"

"Tony," David says softly.

"No," Tony says. "No, I won't leave this alone, because I know what David's going through trying to help you, what Travis is probably dealing with, and have you ever considered that it's not fair to _them_ to do this? What it must be like for them to watch you barricade yourself in this fortress and--" He shakes his head. "Look, I've been there, okay? I've been shot, I've had pneumonic plague, I've--the job has its own hazards, and no, I don't know what you've been through, but there's nothing wrong with accepting help when you need it."

Christian looks at him for a moment before turning and walking away. David gives Tony one unreadable look before going after him. "Baby, c'mon," he says, touching Christian's shoulder. "Please--"

"Don't touch me!" It's an instinctive response, almost a shriek, and David freezes, looking like someone just shot him. "Oh, gods," Christian whispers. "Oh--David--Ididn't--" He swallows hard. "I didn't mean--I--" He shakes his head and runs for the bathroom. "I need to--"

Tony leaves David to hold his hair back and goes to raid Christian's fridge for ginger ale. He's not surprised to find some, and he takes his time pouring a glass, adding ice, delaying until he can find David and Christian. They've moved into the bedroom and Christian's huddled on the bed, burrowing into David's arms.

"Thank you," David says softly, taking the glass. "Baby, c'mon, drink some of this."

Christian's shaking a bit as he takes the glass, sipping carefully. "I'm so sorry," he whispers. "You know I'd never--I--"

"Shh," David murmurs, rubbing his back. "It's okay, honey."

Tony braces himself, knowing David's going to kill him for this. "Still think you don't need help?" he asks matter-of-factly.

Christian looks at him, stricken, and David--yeah, Tony expected that. "Not now," David says.

"Why not?" Tony presses. "Would it be better to wait until the next time he thinks you're going to hit him?"

"I didn't--"

"Yeah, you did," Tony says.

"Tony," David says. "Drop it."

"Why?" Tony asks. "He needs help, David."

"It's not your call to make," David says. "You weren't there. You don't know what happened. You don't get to tell him what he needs." He cuddles Christian a little closer.

"I don't want to see someone," Christian says softly. "I don't want to have to talk about it."

"Is reliving it in your nightmares so much better?" Tony asks. Christian flinches, and he knows he's scored a direct hit.

"Stop it," Christian whispers. "Just--"

"Leave him alone," David says, sharper this time.

"You're not doing him any favors by coddling him," Tony says. "He's strong enough to get through this, he's--"

"Leave him _alone_ ," David snaps, and Tony recognizes the tone in his voice. It's the same steel he heard in Kyle's earlier, and it makes him pause for a moment. Not out of instinct to back off, but from surprise that David would even try that on him. Then again, he's not even sure David realizes he's doing it.

"How can you be so ready to jump down my throat when ten minutes ago you were bitching about the same thing?" he asks, rather than focus on that.

"Because this isn't the time," David says. "Leave it, Tony."

"Am I wrong?" Tony asks Christian instead. "You were strong enough to tell him no, to press charges and follow through on them. You're strong enough to deal with this."

"I didn't--please, just--" Christian curls in on himself.

David slides off the bed. "I'll be right back," he says to Christian, leaning down to kiss his temple. "Tony, a word." He takes Tony's arm and drags him out into the hall, shutting the door behind them. "Leave it alone," he says flatly.

"How can you say that?" Tony demands. "You were so frustrated--"

"And I still am, but attacking him right now won't get you anything," David says. "He's vulnerable and upset and all you're doing is upsetting him further. Drop it, Tony."

"And I suppose you have a lot of experience with people who've been attacked?" Tony asks out of frustration.

David's eyes go cold and he steps back from Tony. "I have experience with _Christian_ , which you don't," he says. "Back off."

"Yes, you know him so damn well," Tony says, hating the bitter taste in his mouth. "He's not your boyfriend anymore, you know. He's not--for Christ's sake, David, you were the one telling me he needed to see a professional. Why are you changing your mind now?"

"I'm not," David says through gritted teeth. "I'm telling you that _right now_ , when he's upset and feeling scared, is not a good time to pressure him into anything. Yeah, if you pushed hard enough you'd get him to agree to anything right now, and then when he was feeling better, he'd resent you, and me, for forcing him into it. He _trusts_ me, Tony, and I'm not endangering that."

Tony looks up at the ceiling, praying for patience. "Fine," he says. "Okay. Whatever. You seem to know so much about this whole situation anyway."

"I know what it's like to have memories you don't want," David snaps. "I know what it's like to have to work through them and move on in order to get on with your life."

For a moment, Tony just stares at him. "What--what happened to you?"

David shakes his head impatiently. "It's not the same thing. Ages ago, back in high school, I made a bad decision to get myself out of a worse situation with a bunch of jocks. You'd probably have loved them. It's not the point, except that I know, a little bit, what it's like to be in his shoes right now."

Tony breathes out slowly. "What--"

"Now isn't the time," David says. "Just--leave it." He opens the door and goes back into the bedroom. Christian's cat has settled herself against his shoulder, and as Tony watches, she scent-marks him, purring loud enough Tony can hear it from the doorway.

"I'm okay, princess," Christian murmurs, scratching behind her ears. "You worry too much."

"She's your cat, she's allowed," David says, sitting on the bed again and putting his arm around Christian's shoulders. Christian leans into him, tucking his head into the crook of David's neck.

"I thought cats were supposed to be aloof and disdainful," Tony says, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

"Mimi never got that memo," David says. "She thinks she's a guard cat."

"Fierce warrior cat of the jungle," Christian corrects with the ghost of a smile. He closes his eyes. "I'm so tired, David."

"I know, baby," David says, stroking Christian's curls. "I know."

"Will you stay tonight?" Christian asks. "Please?"

"Of course," David says immediately.

Tony suppresses a flash of jealousy. It's no different than him staying with Abby, and he knows it, but...he and Abby were never lovers, and there's something in the way David and Christian are so easy around each other, so casually affectionate, that sets him a little on edge. He's got no right to be jealous and he knows it, and yet.

"You want a cup of tea?" David asks Christian. "Something decaf?"

Christian gives him that faint smile again and nods. "I've a good chamomile blend Kyle gave me," he says. "That would be good. I can go make it."

"You go do that, and I'll say goodnight to Tony," David says.

Well. That was one hell of a dismissal. Tony walks back into the living room, waiting for David. "I know when I'm not wanted," he says. "You were awfully quick to agree to stay, though."

"I don't like what you're implying," David says. "He's my best friend and he's having a rough time. What do you want me to do, abandon him?"

"No. No." Tony sighs. "I'm sorry."

David studies him for a moment. "Why do you feel so threatened by him?" he asks. "Is it because we used to be lovers?"

"Why'd you stop?" Tony blurts.

"We were never all that serious," David says. "I've told you this. We were friends who slept together when we weren't seeing anyone else. When I started dating Stephen, that just...ended it."

"Did you play with him?" Tony remembers David's comment about safewording.

"Yes," David says. "I'm not a fan of vanilla sex, you know that."

"Yeah, I do," Tony says. He blows out a breath. "You ever--"

"No," David says. "And if you think that I would, that I'd cheat on you, you need to rethink what you think about me and our relationship."

"I didn't say that," Tony protests. "I just--never mind. I'd better go."

"I think that would be best," David agrees coolly.

"Ouch," Tony says, stung. He turns to hit the button for the elevator but is stopped by the keypad. "Uh--"

David punches in a four-digit code. "I'll call you tomorrow," he says, an unspoken offer of truce in his voice.

Tony nods. "Yeah. Please." He hesitates a moment before kissing David's cheek. "Take--take care of him."

"I will," David says. He smiles a little. "I always do."

"Yeah." Tony smiles back, trying to mean it, and then the elevator arrives and he steps on.

When he leaves, he looks up and can see lights in Christian's apartment. He figures they're having tea, maybe they'll watch TV or a movie or something. He's learned a lot tonight and he's not really sure how he feels about any of it. He'd call Kyle, maybe, see what he has to say, except Kyle's probably busy with Travis and won't answer the phone. Tony settles for sending him a text message and shoves his hands into his coat pockets, hurrying toward the Metro. It's too cold to linger.

Kyle doesn't get back to him by the time Tony gets home and even though it's not even ten Tony decides to call it a night and get into bed. There's really nothing worth staying up for.

*****

He's halfway through the next morning when his phone beeps. Kyle, just saying "He has to decide for himself or it's not worth anything. Call if you want." Tony resists the urge to slam his head against the wall. Thisisn't helping his already-foul mood.

David calls around three and Tony seriously considers just letting it go to voicemail before sighing and flipping his phone open. "Hey," he says.

"Hey." David sounds exhausted. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Tony says. "You sound like hell."

"We got to sleep around six," David says. "Called in sick to work. I got home about an hour ago."

"He okay?" Tony asks, knowing he has to, wishing he didn't.

"Getting there," David says. "Stephen brought over food, because it's what he does, and Travis is going over tonight after work, and I made him promise to call me if he needs anything."

"Okay," Tony says. "So...should I come over to your place after work?"

"Yeah, sure," David says. "Bring food, I haven't been grocery shopping yet this week."

"I can do that," Tony says. "I, ah, better--"

"Yeah, I"ll see you later," David says, and Tony frowns. Is that relief in his voice?

He says goodbye and gets off the phone, but he's so distracted it takes him three tries to focus on the report he'd been reading.

Food turns out to be pho from the Vietnamese place three blocks from David's apartment. David gets down giant bowls and they slurp noodles in companionable silence.

"You, ah." Tony pauses while David's loading the dishwasher. "You want to explain last night?"

"Which part of it?" David asks.

"The story you didn't tell me," Tony says, and David's whole body tenses. "I think--I should know, whatever it is."

"It's really not a big deal, and I don't want you making it into one," David says, closing the dishwasher and not looking at him. "I was a junior in high school, getting hassled by this group of five jocks. After the second time they knocked me down a flight of stairs, I...made a deal with them."

Tony already doesn't like where this is going. "What kind of deal?" he asks.

David gives him an annoyed glance. "What do you think, Tony? They left me alone, and I sucked them all off once a week. It was a choice I made, and it was awful, and had I been something other than a band fag, I'd probably have--" He cuts himself off. "Itdoesn 't matter. It was my decision, and once I graduated, I never had to see any of them again. I was almost grateful my parents disowned me--it meant I really never had to go back."

Once he graduated. "This went on for two years?" Tony whispers.

"During school, yes," David says, voice clipped. "It's not something I think about these days, given the choice."

"Why didn't you tell anyone?" Tony asks, stunned.

"Who was I going to tell? The principal who thought all five of them walked on water because they got our high school into the state football championships? The guidance counselor whodidn 't understand why I wanted to waste my parents' money by majoring in music? The band director who was constantly fighting for funding with the sports teams and would have gotten blown off by the aforementioned principal and guidance counselor? This was the early nineties, Tony, wedidn't exactly have a GLBT support group or sympathetic teachers. I went to public high school in suburban New Jersey and I wasn 't bright enough or disabled enough to merit special attention from anyone other than the music department." David kicks the dishwasher violently enough Tony wonders if things have broken. "I'm sure you were the darling of your high school, but Iwasn 't, and I made the choice I had to in order to survive. My sex life is my own now, and I don't think about what I did sixteen, seventeen years ago, and that's the end of it."

Tony just stares at him, completely dumbfounded. He's never thought of David as a survivor before, never thought there was anything darker in his past other than his parents, which David's never seemed to care about anyway. He never--"Whydidn't you tell _me_?" he manages, his throat tight.

"Because it's not fucking relevant to my life," David says angrily. "Because what I did as a scared seventeen-year-old isn't part of my life anymore and these days I suck off who I want, when I want, and I"m not--" He gestures, out of words. "Don't think of me as a fucking victim, Tony. I'm not. I did what I had to do, I got over it, and now it's done."

"How did you get past it?" Tony asks, knowing it's not what he wants to ask but not having the words to ask the right questions.

David shrugs, leaning against the kitchen counter. "I fucked a lot of boys, my first year at college," he says. "Wasn't interested in most of them, but hey, a mouth's a mouth, right? Eventually I got to the point where I could think about giving ablowjob without wanting to bite it off, and I got past the point where I was being a slut because I might as well be good at sex, and I moved on. I stopped dating altogether my sophomore year of college, went without everything for about eight months, and then I met Mark, the first real boyfriend I'd ever had. He was a wonderful guy, and we lasted until my senior year, when he graduated and went off to join the Peace Corps. He was killed in a car accident ten years ago, coming home from Africa."

He's so angry, Tony thinks, watching the tension in him, the edge to his voice. Angry and without an outlet and until he fully acknowledges what he went through, Tonyisn 't sure he'll ever get past it. For someone as naturally dominant as David to have willingly put himself in this position--and then he wonders. Was David interested in kink before this happened, or is it just a way of getting control back? Did he turn to being a Dom because it meant he could control everything that happened?

He doesn't know the answer and doesn't know how to ask the question. In the kitchen, David blows out a breath, rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair. "Itdoesn't matter," he says, more calmly than before. "I'm not that person anymore."

"Yeah, but..." Tony hesitates. "How much of who you are now is because of what happened to you then?"

"I knew I was kinky before this happened," David says. "Whether I'd be more of a switch otherwise, I don't know and don't care."

"Maybe--did _you_ ever consider seeing someone about it?" Tony asks carefully.

David laughs, short and humorless. "Sauce for the goose? No, I haven't considered it. This doesn't affect my life in the day to day. Back when I could probably have used a therapist, I couldn't afford it, and these days I think I'm fairly well adjusted. Everyone's got skeletons in their closet, Tony. We've all got something we don't want to remember."

Tony can't exactly argue with that.

"I'm making coffee," David says. "Do you want some?"

"Decaf or regular?" Tony asks.

"Irish," David says with a slight smile.

Tony has to snicker. "Yeah," he says. "Count me in."

David uses a liberal hand with the liquor and by the third cup, Tony's feeling a bit buzzed and relaxed enough to lean against David on the couch. "Penny for your thoughts?" he asks after a minute.

"We're all so fucked up," David says, sounding amused. "I've lost all ties with my blood relatives--no great loss there. Stephen's issues are more like an archive going back thirty years. Joshua's a fucking control freak with a short fuse. Travis has a Daddy butdoesn 't know who or where his biological father is. And Christian...well. Of all of us, Kyle's the most normal, and he spanks people for a living."

"Yeah, I don't know how much normal cred he gets," Tony says. "Kyle also doesn't drink caffeine, which makes him a complete freak."

"No caffeine, no meat, no processed foods, very little white sugar or refined carbs," David says. "And he's the size of a tank. His brothers are bigger."

"That's...terrifying," Tony decides. "Do they spank people too?"

"I don't ask," David says. "His mom would probably tell you if you asked, though."

"I'm now afraid of meeting his mom," Tony says, taking another drink of coffee-laced whiskey.

"Oh, Diana's fantastic," David says. "Although we have to watch for dents in the walls when she comes around."

"Does she throw things?" Tony asks warily.

"No, no." David laughs and tosses back the rest of his drink. "She visits and Kyle starts banging his head against solid objects. It's hilarious."

"Right," Tony says warily. He finishes his drink and debates getting up for another one, maybe without the coffee this time. It's a bad idea, but he can't seem to care all that much right now.

"I think I'm not quite as wasted as I want to be, and too drunk to really have the coordination to do much about it," David says. "Pot might have been a better choice than whiskey."

"Whiskey's legal," Tony feels obliged to point out.

"Yes, and you're a fed," David says. "Also, I don't really have any. I stopped smoking up...mm, three years ago? Not that I ever did it all that often."

"I didn't know you used," Tony says, not sure how he feels about that, on top of everything else.

David waves a hand and leans forward to snag the whiskey bottle, splashing more into his mug. "Very seldom," he says. "Once in a while, with friends. I took half my sophomore fall midterms stoned and still managed a 3.7 GPA for the semester. I'm not sure what that says either about my academic prowess or the ease of the classes I was taking."

"You really are drunk," Tony says. Not that he's seen David drunk before--he's seen him tipsy once or twice, but not like this. But there's no mistaking the faint slur to his words and he's being more open about his past than Tony's ever seen him.

"Not drunk enough," David says. "Here, have another." He pours a healthy two fingers into Tony's mug.

"Not drunk enough for what?" Tony asks, even as he takes a sip.

"Tony, there's some fucked up shit going on in my world lately, and you made me bring up memories I really didn't ever want to think about again, so with your permission, I'm going to get wasted to the point that I don't have to think about any of it," David says. "Next we'll start talking about my parents, God help us, and that's a topic that is staying dead and buried."

"What else is going on?" Tony asks, feeling a little guilty for prying while David's inebriated but not guilty enough to stop.

"Nothing exciting," David says. "Mostly it's just Christian. I think there's something going on with Stephen but he hasn't said and I'm not asking Joshua, so I can't do anything there."

That doesn't bode well, Tony thinks. He wonders what's up there. "Why do you think there's something wrong with Stephen?" he asks.

"Have you seen my freezer?" David drops his head back against the couch. "Stephen only cooks this much when he's stressing about something andisn 't ready to talk about it. But the only way to get it out of him is to either beat him into submission, which I can't do, or wait him out, which is less effective."

"Oh," Tony says, deciding to hell with it. He tosses back half his drink, grimacing at the burn. "You guys are fucked up," he decides.

"I think I said that." David takes another drink. "Thank God I don't have to go to work tomorrow," he says suddenly.

"Lucky you," Tony says. "I do."

"No, you don't," David says. "Tomorrow's Saturday."

"Oh. Right." Tony sighs. "Do we have plans?"

"Sleeping off the hangover I'm going to have," David says. "Other than that, I hope to God no, because I've about hit my limit for dealing with shit."

"And if Christian called, you'd be right over there," Tony says under his breath.

David thwaps him. "Yeah, I would, and if Abby called, you'd be right over there, so shut the fuck up and get over it, because I'm sick of dealing with this jealousy from you. It's not pretty and it's not fair and you've never had this problem with Stephen, so I don't know what your issue is but deal with it."

"Stephen doesn't--he's not--" Tony fumbles, knowing he's either too drunk or too sober for this. He decides he's too sober and downs the rest of his drink, pouring more into the mug. "It's just different."

"Oh, fuck that," David says. "It's different how? Because you have no interest in Stephen but you could understand being attracted to Christian? Because Stephen's got a partner he loves? Because Christian needs me and Stephendoesn't, not in the same way?"

"All of it," Tony blurts, and okay, maybe he's too drunk now. "All of it, okay?"

"No, it's not fucking okay," David says. "It's not okay that you think I'm about to take advantage of my best friend. It's not okay that you're jealous of him. It's not fucking okay." He finishes his drink and sets his mug down on the coffee table, hard enough Tony winces. "I need you to accept my friendship with Christian, and I need you to not be a bitch over it."

"Did you end it or did he?" Tony asks.

"It doesn't matter," David says.

"Yeah, it does." Tony pulls away, looking at him. "It matters."

"We never officially 'ended'," David says, complete with finger quotes. "We had an unspoken arrangement that if one of us was seeing someone else, wedidn 't sleep together. When I started dating Stephen, we stopped sleeping together, and when Stephen and I broke up, we never talked about it, we justdidn 't get back together in that way. He was starting to really focus on songwriting and composing and I was doing other stuff and itwasn't a big deal."

"But he could still want you," Tony says stubbornly.

"He doesn't."

"How do you know that?" Tony insists. "How do you know he doesn't?"

"Because he's my best friend and even before I started seeing you he and I didn't--I brought it up once, and he just kinda shrugged and said we were better off now. He doesn't want to sleep with me, I don't want to sleep with him. Stop being a jealous bitch, it really doesn't suit you." David glares at him. "Just--stop it."

Tony groans. "I'm sorry," he says after a moment. "I'm...I'm sorry."

"I don't care if you're sorry, I care if you're going to stop acting like an asshole," David says.

"I will," Tony says. "I mean, I'll try." He sighs. "He's just so much more like you than I am."

"Yeah, and I'm not that much of a narcissist," David says.

Something in that statement strikes Tony as funny and he starts snickering, unable to stop even when David thwaps him hard enough to make him almost spill his drink. "Oh, God," he says, finally catching his breath. "Oh, God, we're so fucking wasted."

"Glad you noticed," David says dryly.

"Yeah. Hoo boy. Okay." Tony looks at his mug, drinks what's inside, and fumbles his mug next to David's on the coffee table. "Are we okay? You and--and me?"

"I don't know, are we?" David asks.

"Yeah. Yeah, we're okay," Tony says. "We should drink some water or something."

"Yeah, I'll get right on that once I can feel my feet again," David says. This also strikes Tony as hilarious and he dissolves into laughter, irrationally pleased when David starts snickering. The two of them kind of collapse into each other, laughing weakly, unable to do more than push at each other. Eventually David gets in one good push and Tony tumbles off the couch, landing on his back on the floor.

"Okay," he says, wondering when the room started spinning. "I'll just...stay here. Here is good."

"Okay," David says. "Bye." He stretches out on the couch, his feet propped up on one arm. "Don't wake me in the morning."

"I'll try not to," Tony says, snagging the pillow under David's legs and stuffing it under his head. The world spins around him some more and he closes his eyes, letting blackness pull him down into sleep.

*****

It's close to two in the afternoon before Tony feels human again, and David's still looking a little frayed around the edges. "Drink more water," Tony says, handing him a bottle.

"Yeah." David presses the cold bottle against his forehead and then the back of his neck before taking a drink. "Thanks." He's sprawled out on the couch, wearing jeans but nothing else except the blue stud in his ear. On any other day, Tony would be tempted, but he's still feeling a bit like his head will shatter if he moves too carefully and David's skin is an unbecoming shade of pale.

Also, he's still not sure how to treat David after the revelations of the previous night. David doesn't want to be thought of as a survivor, but Tony can't treat him like nothing's changed, not now. Not when he can see a skinny teenaged David on his knees, some big jock in front of him--Tony groans, scrubbing a hand over his face and hoping he can pass that off to still being slightly hungover. Daviddoesn't seem to notice when Tony glances at him and he sighs in relief, dropping down on the couch next to him.

"So," he says after a moment. "You okay?"

"And mostly in one piece," David says. "God. The next time I want to get drunk, remind me I really don't. I'm too old for this shit."

Tony laughs. "Yeah. I know the feeling."

"Mmhmm." David closes his eyes, his head back against the cushion of the couch. Tony reaches over and takes his hand, brushing his thumb over David's knuckles. It feels weird, without David's usual complement of rings and bracelets on his hands.

"Why did you start with the jewelry?" he asks in lieu of anything else.

David shrugs. "I like it," he says. "I spent a lot of years trying to be someone I wasn't, bland and boring and passing for straight. That's not me. I like jewelry. I like color and nice clothes. I started collecting jewelry because I _could_ wear it and no one would ask questions. What was it I read once--body adornments make us aware of our bodies, and make other people notice them as well? I wanted to be noticed."

"Do you still?" Tony asks.

Again, David shrugs, turning his head and blinking his eyes open at Tony. "I'm not going out looking to pick anyone up, if that's what you're asking," he says.

"No, that's not it, not exactly," Tony says, trying to figure out what he _is_ asking. "It's--I mean--I don't know what I"m asking."

"Okay," David says, clearly amused. "When you figure it out, let me know."

"I'm so glad I can amuse you," Tony says darkly.

"Eternally," David says. "Do you have a problem with my jewelry? You've never complained before."

"I'm not complaining now," Tony says hastily. "It's--I mean, it's you. I was just curious."

"Okay," David says. "Anything else you're curious about?"

"When..." Tony hesitates. "When was the first time you had sex, that you really wanted to?"

He's surprised to see the almost wistful look on David's face. "Mark," he says. "Mark Flannigan, my sophomore year of college. We met at--there was an outdoor chess game going on, with people as the players--it was kind of like Harry Potter chess before we knew what that was, you know? The chess club provided the players, other groups provided the chess pieces, and our job was to heckle the players and argue with them and convince them to do anything but the moves they wanted. Anyway, I had gotten roped into it because a friend of mine was trying to get into the pants of the black king, so I was--don't laugh--the white knight."

Tony tries not to laugh, but doesn't manage it. David thwaps him lightly. "Anyway, there I was, trading lewd jokes with the other chess pieces, and then I got sent out to be sacrificed, declared I was defecting, and hopped into the black bishop's square. That was Mark. I told him I was seducing the bishop so he'd let me stay, he seemed amenable, and I kissed him. He, um--announced to the chessboard that the bishop had become sullied and had to go on a religious journey to atone for his sins. We fled the chessboard, made it to my dorm room, and, ah.Didn't emerge until dinner the next night."

"He's--this is the guy who turned into your boyfriend?" Tony asks.

"Yeah," David says. "Yeah, he was." He takes a drink of water. "Who was your first?"

"Girl or guy?" Tony asks.

"Who came first?" David asks.

Tony grins. "She did," he says deadpan. "Her name was Veronica Cabot. Old money, very DAR and stuff. We met in prep school. Ronnie was, um--once she decided she wanted something, she got it, pretty much."

"And she decided she wanted you?" David asks.

"Yeah, she did, and I wasn't dumb enough to turn down a beautiful girl who wanted to get into my pants," Tony says, laughing. "We lasted about a month before she dropped me in favor of Jeremy Miller, mostly because he had a car and I didn't."

"The attraction of transportation never fails," David says, smiling. "Who was your first guy?"

"Honestly, I didn't get his name," Tony says. "It was in college, frat party, we were both drunk and ended up exchanging handjobs in the bathroom. I barely got a good look at his face."

David snorts, taking another drink of water. "Okay, the first guy where you knew what you were doing?"

"Doug Sullivan," Tony says. "Sophomore year of college. Neither of us were out, obviously, but we knew the signals. It didn't last long. Most of my encounters with guys were pretty casual."

"Not too surprising," David says.

"Yeah, not really," Tony admits, feeling a bit sheepish about it. He steals David's water bottle and takes a sip. "It's the way things go."

"Sometimes," David says. "And sometimes it isn't." He takes his water bottle back. "You hungry? I'll buy you lunch."

"I could eat," Tony says. "You might want to put some more clothes on first, though."

"Probably be a good idea," David says. He stretches and rolls to his feet, closing the water bottle. "What are you in the mood for?" He heads for the bedroom, running his hands through his hair.

"So many ways I could answer that," Tony says, realizing he means it.

David glances over his shoulder with a grin. "Or we could eat in," he says.

"That might be a better idea," Tony says, trying for serious and completely not succeeding. "We do have moving expenses coming up soon, after all." He gives David an innocent look, managing--barely--not to crack up.

"God, don't remind me," David says with a groan. "I'm not thinking about packing today." He turns, crooking a finger. "C'mere."

"Hmm?" Tony gets to his feet and crosses over to David.

David slides a hand into Tony's hair and kisses him, long and slow. "You've got thirty seconds to get out of your clothes," he says, letting go.

It takes twenty-three.


End file.
